Chapter Text
Lucas ignores meeting anyone’s eyes as he trails through the village after Leah on their way to school, groggy after too little sleep and too much crying. He feels exposed without his phone in his back pocket, unease rolling inside his stomach at the memory of his dad’s disappointed eyes. His cuts are already itching under the bandages as he makes it through the open gates at the front of school.
“Morning, Lucas,” John Paul calls out from beside the double doors. Lucas meets his eyes to see John Paul frown down at him. “Is something wrong?”
Lucas glances at the others streaming through the school gates, imagining how excruciating telling his teacher any part of what has happened. The panic attack at Dillon’s, the pictures, the hurting himself. Nothing he would ever tell a teacher, let alone one so close to his dad. He doesn't need anyone else disappointed in him.
“Nothing, Sir,” Lucas says, ducking inside the school, heading straight for his locker. Around one of the corners a group of students descend into raucous laughter as he swings the locker door open.
“Hey,” he hears Dillon call out to him and he glances back, watching the boy’s smile fade as they meet eyes. “Is something wrong?” Dillon leans against the lockers to his left, like he has done a hundred times before.
Lucas feels his thoughts swell. He can’t make himself lie to Dillon, so he stays silent as he dumps the textbooks from his bag into the locker.
“You didn’t text me back last night,” Dillon says, pitching his voice lower, just above a whisper. “I thought… Maybe I did something to make you uncomfortable.”
“I have to go,” Lucas says, shutting his locker with a slam and turning away.
“Lucas, wait.” Dillon makes a grab for Lucas’s right arm, over the fresh bandages covered by his shirtsleeve.
“Fuck!” Lucas pulls his arm back, wincing at the jolt of pain that rocks through him at the touch. He watches realisation dawn on Dillon’s face as his mouth turns down.
“Lucas,” he says, sounding helpless.
“Lucas!” Nancy chides from the other end of the corridor.
He takes off towards the other end of school, tears stinging at his eyes as he hears Dillon tell Nancy that he’ll take care of it. Then Dillon is chasing after him, grabbing hold of the skinny bones of his wrists and tugging him into an empty classroom. They end up in the corner, Lucas sinking to the floor, his back to the cupboards that line the walls.
Dillon kneels in front of him, letting go of his wrists to hold Lucas by the sides of his face. “Babe, can you tell me what’s wrong?”
Lucas lets out a shaky breath, grasping at Dillon’s arm as he feels the other boy wipe his tears away with his thumbs. “Everyone’s mad at me.”
Dillon shakes his head. “No one’s mad at you, why do you think that?”
“My dad hates me,” Lucas says, sniffling.
“Your dad loves you, Lucas.” Dillon sighs, resting his forehead against Lucas’s. “What happened?”
The familiar smell of mint, aftershave, and fresh laundry is so distinctly Dillon that it starts to clear Lucas’s head. “I did something stupid.”
“Yeah?” Dillon leans back, far enough to see him but closer than Lucas would allow anyone else. His eyes are wide and searching, deep brown piercing Lucas’s heart.
“You know how I find it hard, like the touching stuff?” Lucas flushes.
“The… more than kissing?”
Lucas tightens his hold on Dillon’s arm, anchoring himself. “Yeah. And I thought that maybe if I showed you… more of me, then you might not lose interest. Even if not in person.” he trails off, feeling shame prickle at the hairs on the back of his neck.
Dillon frowns. “I’d never lose interest in you.”
“Yeah?” Lucas blinks up at him.
Dillon shakes his head, brushing his thumb against Lucas’s bottom lip. “You know you’re my everything, right?” He leans in, capturing Lucas’s mouth in a delicate kiss. He breaks away after not long enough, whispering into the air between them. “You were telling me something.”
“Right.” Lucas clears his throat, fighting off the giddy daze that kissing Dillon always pushes him into. “So I tried to take pictures of myself that I thought you might like.”
“Pictures?” Dillon’s brows furrowed.
“Like… semi-nudes.”
“Oh,” Dillon says with an unreadable expression.
“But my dad caught me,” Lucas continues in a rush. “And then he took my phone and said that it was illegal to do stuff like that when I’m only a kid.”
“Wow.”
Lucas winces at the memory. “I kept getting everything wrong, and doing bad things again. And he was so mad at me. I just wanted to hurt myself.” He takes a gasp of breath, new tears rolling down his cheeks. “So I did.”
“Baby,” Dillon whispers, his own eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry,” Lucas mutters, ducking his head.
Dillon shakes his head. “Did you make sure that it was clean, sanitised?”
“Yeah…”
“Good.”
A heavy beat of silence elapses between them and there is the distant sound of the school bell sounding through the halls outside.
“We should go,” Lucas whispers, shoulders tense.
“Wait,” Dillon pleads, keeping Lucas there with his solid hands taking hold of the other boy’s wrists. “I just want you to know that I have been trying to not make you uncomfortable, to ever pressure you into sex. But if it’s just that trauma that is stopping you from doing stuff, and you do want to do something, there are other ways to go about it.”
“Really?”
Dillon nods, a shy smile playing across his face. “Yeah, we don’t have to do it ‘normally’ or whatever, there are a bunch of ways to make each other feel good. But lets maybe wait until you’re older for spicy pictures, yeah?”
“Okay,” Lucas says, brain lighting up with realisation. “Dillon?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m in–”
The door handle turns and Lucas jolts at the sound. Dillon and Lucas peer up with wide eyes to see a suspicious John Paul looking back at them.
“What are you two doing in my classroom?” John Paul asks, walking over to his desk.
The two boys clamber up off the floor, Dillon’s left hand settling into Lucas’s right.
“Nothing, Sir,” Dillon says, pulling Lucas towards the door.
John Paul hums. “Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“We were being gay, Sir. Is that not allowed?” Lucas asks, eyes sharp and clear despite the pink tinge left by his tears.
John Paul smirked back at him with raised eyebrows. “Not when you’re supposed to be somewhere else.”
Lucas pulled Dillon back towards him with their joined hands and planted a kiss on Dillon’s cheek before glaring back at John Paul. As the door swung closed behind them, Lucas felt lighter, Dillon’s voice playing over in his mind. They’d be okay.